(I Just) Died In Your Arms ~ Stanley Uris

018

"Should I just book it?" Julia asked her husband, who was crouched over their glass glass coffee table, just about to place the final piece of the puzzle he had been working for hours on. "I mean, I get one week off of work, we should go on vacation. Do you think you can get off of work?"

"Yeah, why not, it's summer." He chucked, his fingers tracing the outline of the puzzle. His job as an accountant wasn't as unforgiving as Julia's as she was a surgeon, but nevertheless still tight on vacation days. After all, 2016 was a year that he was to only focus on work and his family.

"Okay, Stan, I guess we're Venice bound!" She chuckled, sitting at the bar of her well decorated kitchen, her feet hooked on the legs of the bar stool. "What about the kids, are we just going to leave them with your mother all week? Are you sure they're not going to be extremely religious when we get back?"

"I can't make any promises." Stanley jokes, turning around on his couch to stare at his wife, who was still typing away at her laptop. In his eyes, she still looked young and bright, she didn't look a day over 30. Her hair was let loose and fell just below her shoulders, pushed behind her ears so they wouldn't get into her face.

On their counter was a crystal vase with sunflowers neatly arranged with most of their stems cut off, Julia's favorite flower. Stan had surprised them for her on their 16th anniversary.

"They'll be fine. Especially little James, he'll be fine." He concluded, standing up from his chair to get a glass of water. The white tile underneath his sock covered feet felt cool and hard, different than how they usually feel. "Mason's going to be angry though."

"Oh, he can handle it." Julia smiles, shutting the lid over her computer with a clap, resounding through their kitchen. "After all, he's the one who constantly tells us to leave him alone."

Stan bent over and kissed her briefly, taking the glass of water back to his bird puzzle, just one piece missing. He lounged on his couch for a moment, relieved to finally get a break from work and three kids.

"How was surgery last week? Didn't you have that transplant?" He asked, swirling the ice in his glass.

"I don't know." She mumbled, biting her lip, getting up from her chair. Stanley read as much as he could on each of her surgeries, just so he could ask her questions without feeling like an idiot. He admired how passionate she was. "The patient didn't wake up just yet. I think she's circling the drain. I knew this patient."

She sat by his side, leaning her head against his shoulder waiting for him to comfort her like he had done all these years. She has known him for 27 years, but the beginning was always foggy, remembering only bits and pieces, especially all the times he was there with her when she was upset.

His arms wrapped around her shoulders, reclining back into the couch cushion with her between his legs, her body curled up over his chest with her face staring blankly at the puzzle. He kissed the top of her head and began humming music, just to limit how much he had to see her cry. He hated seeing her cry.

"Your puzzle." She said faintly, lifting her head up for a moment. "You didn't finish it."

"You're more important to me, honey." He answered, his thumb moving in circles on her back. His touch still had the same affect, even after all these years.

She shifted her weight, moving to look towards Stan. Her eyes were cold and dead, as if she had completely given up. Losing patients always hit hard on her. Her hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him down to place an everlasting kiss on his lips, her eyes shut, her fingers curled.